


In the Infinity of my Universe

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, De-Aged Kirk, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gen, Kid James Kirk, POV Spock, Protective Spock, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Spock realizes he has been offered all the perfection of all eternity, and embarks on the journey of attaining it.





	1. Impetus

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for checking this out. It's my first work, but I don't plan to disappoint.

I feel the numbing sensation of a transporter beam rush through my bones. In an instant I am able to feel solid material beneath my boots. As I make move to step off the transporter platform, however, the redshirt who has presently beamed us aboard emits a gasp.

 I must admit, I am momentarily frustrated by his reaction, until I direct my attention to Kirk, whose currently less-than-optimal state nearly elicits a similar response from myself.

 Jim, who I am quite convinced was thirty years, six months, and three days old this morning, is now a trembling toddler on the transporter pad to the right of mine. His command-gold uniform is almost falling off his shoulders, and the probability that his pants are, in any way, still hanging on his hips is negligibly low.

 As regulation states, I comm med-bay immediately. Two minutes, eight seconds later, I am following Doctor McCoy, cradling Jim protectively against his chest, into the turbo lift. While my captain is being checked into med-bay, I am required to leave and take command of the bridge.

 

\----------

 

“You know, I’m not exactly sure how the Monjixi were able to scramble up his genetics and physical make-up like that, Spock. He's our same old Jim, just twenty-two months old.”

 “What is the probability of his returning to his proper age on his own?” I ask the doctor, trying hard not let any hint of desperation show. . . . though it may be slightly inaccurate to say that I am entirely successful.

 “Damn it, Spock, I wish I knew,” he grumbles. “We’ll just have to-”

 “Beep! Beep!”

 Dr. McCoy whips around and hurries into the room next to us, returning an instant later with Jim cradled securely in his arms. I notice the blond-haired boy leaning into his touch and tucking his face against the blue uniform, and as much as I try to stop it, a small part of me is filled with want.

 A grin spreads across McCoy’s face as he says, “Here we go, all healthy.” And before I realize what is happening, Jim has been transferred into my own arms.

 “Bones,” the doctor says slowly and clearly, placing his own hand on his chest, and “Spock,” moving his hand to my shoulder.

 I do not expect a reply from the boy, but he gives one nonetheless, “Jim,” pointing to himself before timidly looking up at the doctor and myself for reassurance.

 “Yes, Jim,” I reply, and I feel something grow warm in my lower abdomen as he claps his tiny hands joyfully.

 “Since you’re supposed to protect the captain and all, do you wanna spend some time with Jim?”

 “I would not object,” I find myself replying, and before I quite realize what I have agreed to, the doctor says he’ll have all the care information sent to my PADD. For now, though, I am supposed to take Jim down to the mess hall to eat.

 

\----------

 

Most of the crew has heard of the captain’s transformation, but somehow that does not prevent them from from crowding around us in the mess hall and hindering us from securing our food quickly. When we finally reach the replicators, I order myself a salad and Jim a gluten-free tuna sandwich and apple sauce.

 “No,” the child beside me says timidly, tugging at my trousers. I am about to remind Jim that his ability to speak is not necessarily cause for him to supply his opinion in every situation, until he says, more firmly this time, “I get sick,” and points to the sandwich.

 As I have taken all of Jim’s allergies into account, I continue leading him to a table — our table, the two-person one tucked away in the corner of the room — and reply, “It is unnecessary for you to worry, Jim. Please accept my assurance that all of your food is safe to eat.”

 When we arrive at the table, I realize that the captain will not be able to reach and eat his food without assistance, so I take my normal seat and pull Jim onto my lap. I pick off a tiny piece of the sandwich and hold it to his mouth, but the stubborn child refuses to eat it. He turns around to face me and explains as best he can, “Bread got gluten, makes me sick,” Jim then points to the bread, desperate to make his point clear.

 I know it is illogical to waste food, but it would be unacceptable for Jim to think I was trying to hurt him. I remove the bread from his sandwich and proceed to feed him the tuna with my salad fork.

 When he is finished, he reaches for his water glass, and, at his insistence, I allow him to hold it by himself. However, within two seconds, he somehow manages to spill most of the liquid directly onto my crotch area, without getting himself wet. I scoot Jim to the edge of my knees and quickly pry the cup from his fingers and set it on the table, before assessing my condition. It quite convincingly looks like I have had an accident and wet my pants.

 I find my face growing uncomfortably warm, but I simply pat Jim on the back, for it would be inaccurate to claim that I have not put him in a number of compromising positions throughout the years, and proceed to eat my salad. With the fork Jim had borrowed. With the fork that had been in Jim’s mouth. I again feel the mass in my lower-abdomen flutter, and I am thankful no one can see my lips turning upward


	2. Drifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Spock's emotions start drifting out of his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here we go! Chapter two. This one was really fun to write. I hope you enjoy it. :)

I again lift my eyes from my PADD to check on Jim, but his state has not changed. He has been sitting perfectly still on my bed for the past hour, and while this has given me ample time to notify Starfleet of the captain’s predicament, I am slightly alarmed. My research says young humans are supposed to be extremely active.

“Jim, are you feeling optimal?” I ask, in what I consider my gentle voice.

He blinks owlishly.

I try again. “Are you feeling okay?”

The child slowly nods his head, keeping his large blue eyes pinned on me, but I am not wholly convinced.

“Come, Jim, we will go see McCoy.” I wait for the captain to descend from the bed and follow me, but he makes no move to do so, almost as if he never heard my order. This concerns me more than I would like it to, and I promptly pick the child up. Contrary to what I would have guessed, considering how dismissive he has been, Jim clings to me and leans into my touch. I put one arm around his back and the other beneath his padded hind, which to my surprise, is cold. Obviously, children wear diapers for a reason, but it is highly uncharacteristic of young children retrain from whining once they have emptied their bladders.

Quite concerned about Jim’s well-being, I hurry him down to sick-bay.

  
\----------

  
“Jimmy ain’t sick, Spock.”

I have a difficult time believing the doctor.

“I mean, he’s got a heck of a diaper rash, but nothin’ else is physically wrong with him.”

“Are we to infer that he has contracted a psychosomatic illness of sorts?”

“No, Spock, I think Jimmy’s touch-starved, affection-starved more generally.”

No one eats physical contact, so I conclude that Dr. McCoy is using idiomatic phrasing.

“You seen how he doesn’t really expect our attention, but he soaks it up if we give it to him?”

“Affirmative.”

“That’s what touch-deprived kids do. It’s not really that surprising, looking at the mess his childhood was, but I think we ought to do our best to love him and make him feel secure.”

“I fail to see how affection so unwarranted as yours would make anyone feel secure.”

“Haha, who’s a funny hobgoblin?” is his dry reply. “Look, I gotta work on figuring out what caused this whole mess, so I need you to love the darn kid on both of our behalfs.”

“Doctor, I remind you that, as a Vulcan, I am incapable of loving. However, I will put on the best charade I am able.”

“You Vulcans are all big fat liars!” McCoy shouts back at me with a smirk as he leaves the room.

Vulcans are not fat — they are dense.

  
\----------

  
“Would you like to engage in recreational activities, Jim?” I ask the toddler sitting a few feet in front of me.

There is a rather disappointing silence.

Something compels me to hold open my arms, and the child quickly stands up, waddles towards me, and plops down on my lap. I hesitantly wrap my arms around Jim and pull him close. Half of me feels terribly out of place, while the other half of me whispers that my arms were made to do nothing more than hold Jim forever.

It occurs to me rather suddenly that this is the first time I have ever held Kirk. This is our first hug. 

“Do you like hugs, Jim?” I ask, because I have to do something to mark the moment.

“Hugs are good,” he explains in his little voice. He seems to think that I will not be able to understand him unless he makes each syllable very distinct.

“Yes they are,” and I wish there were something else to fill up the silence.

“I’mma touch you ears.”

I was not expecting that.

“Okay, Jim,” I reply, and lean my head forward. Two chubby hands clap over my ears and give them a tight, painful squeeze. I flinch at the unexpected pain, but the child merely looks me square in the face and bursts out laughing.

I envelope Jim in a warm embrace.

And for a second, I am inclined to believe that time stops. For a moment, I forget that I am not hugging the real Jim, my Jim. And when I come back to reality to find myself slowly rocking the child back and forth, it hurts.

  
\----------

  
“Goodnight Jim,” I whisper, carding my fingers through his golden waves.

“Night Pock,” he giggles, almost as if he is delighted simply by the fact that he is able to speak.

“I hope you sleep well. Call me if you require anything. I will be next-”

With one fluid motion, he grabs my hand from his hair and shoves my fingers into his mouth. I am quite confused by Jim’s actions, but I make no move to correct them. I simply sit at the edge of his bed and allow him to make the next move.  
To my surprise, he settles down on his pillow and closes his eyes, sucking gently on my digits.

It suddenly occurs to me that I have become a replacement for a pacifier. I do not believe it is necessary for me to expound upon the uncomfortable effects of Jim’s ministrations. Vulcans’ anatomy is often the subject of enough cruel conversations.

After four hours of sitting next to Jim, I find myself growing weary, which is highly unusual for one of my race. If I were human, I would attribute such a predicament to the stress I have undergone. However, I am not human, so I can find nothing to blame. All I can do is rest.

Even though Jim is asleep, I am hesitant to lie myself down on his bed. I feel as though it would be an invasion of his space. However, he is the one sucking my tender areas, and I am thoroughly exhausted. I slowly lower my head down until it is only a foot away from Jim’s, and then I lift my legs onto the mattress.

Exhausted as I am, I make a point to remain awake for a moment and memorize exactly what it feels like to lie next to Jim, even though this Jim is not my Jim, because I anticipate that in future years, I will desire to recall the first time I ever did so. But I also know that when I wake, Jim might have returned to his proper age, and I might never get this opportunity again.

I wonder when Jim became so important to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for your time. I hope you enjoyed yourself :) If so, please consider leaving kudos and a comment and subscribing. If you have any requests for future chapters, feel free to leave them in the comment as well. Thanks! I'll try to have the third chapter up in a week or less.  
> Best,  
> StarScribbler


	3. Chapter 3

You know what guys, I really wasn't supposed to get an ao3 account or write fan fiction or any of that. My parents don't know I did so and wouldn't be okay with it, so I'm gonna delete my account now. Thanks so much for the . . . four days of support. Can't wait till I'm eighteen! See you then.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you for your time. I definitely plan to continue this story asap. If you have any suggestions, please comment, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate kudos.
> 
> Best,  
> StarScribbler


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